


The Flipside Trilogy

by yourebrilliant



Series: The Flipside 'Verse [1]
Category: Doctor Who
Genre: AU, F/M, Pete's World
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-22
Updated: 2014-05-22
Packaged: 2018-01-26 02:47:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,064
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1671827
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yourebrilliant/pseuds/yourebrilliant
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prequel to Someone Else, this trilogy tells the story of Rose's struggle to get back to the Doctor after the events of Doomsday</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Hope

As Rose slid down the austere wall of the alternate Torchwood, her angry pounding giving way to helpless sobs, her almost-father knelt beside her and placed a hand on her shoulder. Turning, she flung her arms around his neck and wept into his shirt.

Cradling the child he had longed for for so long, Pete Tyler closed his eyes against the pain she was feeling, and stroked her hair. Catching Mickey's eye, he nodded to indicate the other Torchwood operatives crowding the room. Then, as Mickey and Jake hustled people out of his way, Pete slid an arm under her knees and stood, lifting Rose with him.

 

Outside, Mickey held open the door of Pete's company car as Pete slid into the backseat, Rose still cradled in his arms. Mickey clapped Jake on the shoulder and climbed into the driver's seat as an anxious Jackie slid into the passenger seat, turning back to watch her, now quiet, daughter. By the time Mickey had started the engine, Rose was asleep, exhausted by the emotional overload of the day.

 

Five days later, Jackie answered a knock on the door of the Tyler mansion to find Mickey and a visitor standing on the doorstep.

'Mickey,' she said quietly, trying to smile and knowing it was a poor attempt.

'Hi, Jackie,' Mickey said, stepping over the threshold to hug her tightly. 'Any change?' he asked. Jackie shook her head sadly. 'Well,' he said, sighing, 'I brought him.' He gestured needlessly to the guest.

'Mrs Tyler,' the man said, 'Mickey has told me so much about you all. I really hope I can help.'

So do I,' Jackie said fervently. 'She's in the first room on the left,' she added, gesturing to the vast staircase dominating the foyer.

'I'll show you,' Mickey offered, hugging Jackie once more, briefly, and leading the way.

As they strode away, Jackie felt an arm wrap around her shoulders and leant back against Pete's chest. 'D'you really think this'll work?' she asked him.

'It has to, love,' Pete said, as worried about his almost-daughter as Jackie was, 'it's been five days and she's still in bed. She won't eat unless we watch her, she won't sleep until she's exhausted,' he shook his head sadly. 'She needs hope,' he said. 'She needs a reason to get up.'

'I just worry how she'll respond to him,' Jackie said, wrapping her arms around Pete's waist. Rose's depression had, at least, brought the two of them closer together. Seeing how much Pete cared for Rose had gone a long way to convincing Jackie that he was the same man her husband had been, if more successful, and looking after Rose had taken her mind off the, potentially intimidating, experience of living in the mansion.

'He's a good man,' Pete said, dropping a kiss on Jackie's head. 'We'll let him handle it. Come and have a cup of tea,' he added, steering her away from the hallway.

 

Even in her semi-catatonic state, Rose registered the presence in the doorway. Slowly turning her head on the pillow, she found she could only stare, her eyes widening as she recognised the tall figure. 'Jack?' she croaked, her voice hoarse. 'But, you're dead,' she added, confused. She lay on her back, arms at her sides, in the guest bedroom Pete had put her in when they returned from Torchwood. Jackie had tried to encourage her to pick a room and decorate it any way she wanted, but Rose couldn't face the thought of it. And what was the point? It was a question she asked about many things, lying in this floral monstrosity, staring at the only calm point in the room, the cream ceiling.

'That's some greeting,' Jack said cheerfully, moving further into the room. Rose watched him, wondering if she'd finally snapped and started to hallucinate. 'I might be getting on a bit,' he continued, 'but I wouldn't say dead just yet.'

'But you are,' Rose insisted anxiously, worried that she was losing her mind. 'I know you are. Jack died. So,' she concluded, 'either I'm nuts or you're not Jack.'

'You're not nuts,' he said fervently, 'and I am Jack. Sort of,' he added quietly, but Rose, already speaking, didn't hear.

'Jack,' she whispered. 'I'm so sorry,' she said, lifting a hand towards him. She didn't seem to question how he was alive, or how he'd managed to get to the alternate universe. 'If we'd known you were alive...' she was saying. 'You have to know we never would've...' she tailed off, lost in her memories.

'He regenerated,' she said after a moment, tears filling her eyes. 'Did you know he could do that? Died and came back in a different body.' She laughed shakily. 'Scared me silly.' A tear rolled down one cheek. 'But he was still the Doctor,' she said quietly. 'New new Doctor. And we saw such amazing things, Jack. You would've loved them! And then,' she said, closing her eyes, 'the Cybermen came. And he had this whole plan, all figured out. He tried to send me away again,' she said, not noticing that Jack was moving into the light, a concerned frown marring his handsome face. 'But I came back,' she continued, her voice becoming fainter, tears sliding down her cheeks as she spoke. 'And it was working! But one of the levers...' she tailed off for a moment. 'And I got it, Jack, we got them. But I couldn't hold on. I thought I was gonna die, but Pete, he caught me, brought me back here. I don't know what happened to him,' she whispered, meaning the Dcotor. 'I don't know where he is.'

Jack stood next to the bed, unsure of what to say. Reaching out he placed a consoling hand on top of the pale, feminine hand that lay at her side. At his touch she opened her eyes. Smiling gently, his hazel eyes warm with sympathy and sorrow, Jack said, 'When I said "I am Jack"...' He tailed off as she stared at him, confused, taking in his appearance for the first time; where was his coat, his brown trousers with the braces? This man wore a soft, dark green jumper and, were those cords? Suddenly the pieces fell into place.

'You're this Jack.' Rose said slowly, her voice flat and emotionless again.

'Yeah,' Jack said apologetically. He perched on the edge of the bed his hand still resting against hers. Rose made no move to make more room for him. If it was up to her she'd never move again. The only reason she moved at all was because her mother insisted on feeding her, so she had to go to the bathroom. It wasn't that she was trying to waste away, she just couldn't see the point of it all. Jack was speaking again. 'Your friend Mickey tells me I'm a lot like him,' he was saying, referring to his counterpart.

Rose made no comment to this, returning to staring at the ceiling.

'How d'you know Mickey?' she asked after a moment, curiosity briefly breaking through the lethargy that had overtaken her since she'd found herself trapped in the alternate universe.

'I work with him,' Jack responded, smiling at her.

'But, Mickey works at Torchwood,' she said slowly, turning her head to stare at him in disbelief. 'You work for Torchwood?' she asked.

'Sure do,' Jack said cheerfully. 'I head up the London branch.'

Rose snorted at this. 'You can't be much like my Jack,' she said scornfully. 'He'd never work for an outfit like Torchwood.'

Jack raised his eyebrows. 'What's wrong with Torchwood?' he asked.

'What's wrong?' Rose cried, raising her voice for the first time in days. 'They're the reason I'm...the reason he's...' she tailed off, closing her eyes as tears slid down her cheeks. 'They let in the Cybermen,' she said finally. 'Deliberately.'

Jack frowned. 'Why?' he asked.

Rose laughed bitterly. 'Stupidity?' she suggested.

'Rose,' he said, lifting her hand from where it lay limply at her side. 'We're not like them,' he said with quiet conviction. 'We're here to help protect the Earth from alien threats.'

Rose looked over, about to laugh or refute his statement, and found herself caught in the obvious sincerity of his intense gaze. Instead she found herself nodding, believing him.

Rose struggled to sit up in bed, pushing ineffectually at the mattress with arms weak from malnourishment and lack of use. Standing, Jack leant over and lifted her as if she weighed nothing, settling her comfortably against the headboard.

She watched him as he sat down again, her eyes following his every move, roaming over his face and body, comparing him to her Jack.

'Why are you here?' she asked, when he had seated himself again.

'To talk to you,' he replied, winking roguishly at her.

'About?' Rose asked, ignoring his flirtatious manner.

Jack smiled. 'You're sharp,' he said admiringly. 'That's good.'

'Why?' Rose demanded, becoming irritated with all his secrecy and cryptic comments.

Jack suppressed a smile, she certainly didn't seem listless now. Instead he looked her dead in the eye, his manner serious once more. 'We'd like you to come on board at Torchwood.'

'No,' she said flatly, anger flashing in her deep brown eyes. 'I won't work for Torchwood.'

'I wouldn't expect you to work for those guys,' Jack said scornfully. 'But we're not like them, and we need all the help we can get protecting this planet. Mickey's doing the best he can-'

'Mickey should know better,' Rose interrupted. She disapproved of Mickey's job and he knew it.

'He's doing what he thinks is right,' Jack said gently. 'We get a lot of aliens coming through here,' Rose looked surprised. 'Oh yeah,' Jack said, noticing her expression, 'more than I ever knew about before I signed on. Most of them are okay,' he assured her, 'fit in with the wildlife, or look human, not here to do any harm. But the ones that are...' he shook his head. 'Mickey's doing the best he can,' Jack continued, 'but someone with your experience in the field, as it were,' he said, his gaze apologetic for reminding her of her loss, 'would make such a difference. We need you Rose. We need you to help save people's lives.'

Her gaze flitted to the clear windows, and Jack could see her mulling it over, could feel the promise of a challenge breaking through her apathy. When she looked back at him he could see in her eyes that she was wavering, so he pulled out his ace card. 'And,' he said calmly, 'in your downtime, you would have full access to the Torchwood database and its labs.'

Rose stared at him, wondering if he knew exactly what he was offering her. Locking his gaze with hers, Jack nodded slowly.

'Okay,' she said quietly. 'I'll do it.'

'Not like that you won't,' Jack said, grinning once again. 'All pasty and undernourished.' He made a face and Rose wondered, for the first time in days, what she looked like. 'Take the rest of the week,' Jack instructed, 'get some food, get some sleep, get some exercise, and I'll see you bright and early Monday morning.'

'Aye aye, Captain,' she said, cracking a smile.

'That's more like it,' he grinned, patting her on the shoulder and standing to leave.

'Jack,' she called out, when he was halfway to the door.

'Yeah?' he asked, turning back.

'How will I get there?'

'Oh, I'm sure Mickey can give you a lift,' Jack said easily. 'I'll make sure he's got all your security doodahs on Monday.'

Rose nodded, preoccupied. 'Thanks,' she said, just as he was about to leave.

Standing in the doorway, he smiled at her. 'No problem,' he said gently, and left.

 

Mickey, Jackie and Pete were sitting anxiously in front of three untouched mugs of tea when they heard Jack come down the stairs, whistling cheerfully. Exchanging apprehensive glances they stood and headed for the hallway.

'Mrs Tyler,' Jack said, kissing her hand, 'it was a pleasure to visit your lovely home.' He smiled reassuringly and added, 'I think Rose might be interested in some food soon. Mickey,' he said, clapping the younger man on the shoulder, 'we need to go talk to security. We've got a new employee to get fitted out.'

Pete shook Jack and Mickey's hands gratefully and escorted them to the front door. Jackie hurried up the stairs to Rose's room, where she found her trying to stand on weak legs.

'Here, love,' she said quickly, sliding an arm around Rose's waist and letting Rose lean on her, 'let me help.'

'Thanks,' Rose said quietly. 'I thought I might have a bath,' she explained. 'I feel really manky all of a sudden.'

'Good idea, pet,' Jackie agreed, trying to hide her tears as she helped Rose along the hall. 'I'll bring you a nice cup of tea once you're settled, eh?' she said, gently setting Rose on the toilet seat and turning on the taps for her bath.

'Thanks, mum,' Rose murmured, leaning back against the cistern for support.

Coming to stand in front of her, Jackie leant down and wrapped her in a hug. 'No problem, love,' she said. 'Now,' she added more briskly, 'I'll put the kettle on and then we'll get you in the bath, alright?'

Rose nodded and let her go.

Out in the hall, Jackie found Pete waiting for her. 'Well?' he asked anxiously.

'It's there, Pete,' she said, stepping forward and wrapping her arms around him, 'in her eyes. I don't know what he said, but it's there.'

Pete smiled with relief, and hugged her tight. 'And that's all she needs, love,' he said, kissing the top of her head. 'Hope.'


	2. Interlude

Standing in the doorway to her office, Jack Harkness watched as the setting sun of a summer’s day cast warm rays of light over the oblivious figure hunched over the cheap wooden desk.

Rose was pressed close to the desk, sharpened pencils protruding from the high ponytail that kept her, now long, hair out of her face. Absently she shoved loose tendrils behind her ears as she traced a line of text on the page in front of her with a short fingernail. Suddenly she stabbed harshly at the black calculator that sat next to the pad. Squinting in the fading light, she lifted the calculator close to her face, angling it towards her so she could read the display. Throwing her hands up in frustration at the answer, she thumped the calculator back on the table, dropped her head into her hands and screamed.

‘Problems?’ Jack asked, sympathetically.

Rose looked up, surprised to see someone else in the room. She smiled when she realised it was Jack. It had taken a while for her to get used to this man who was so similar but slightly different than the Jack she remembered. For the first few weeks at Torchwood, having a conversation with him had been like playing Spot the Difference. He had the full quotient of charm and humour, but his experience as the head of Torchwood 1 had made him more cautious, more responsible than her Jack. Now, six months after their first meeting, he was her closest friend and the only person she trusted implicitly. ‘My numbers don’t tally,’ she explained. Jack crossed the room to stand behind her, looking at the pad over her shoulder. ‘See,’ she pointed, ‘the projected figures don’t match the output from the machine.’

‘Rose,’ he said, noticing the decreasing coherence of the later calculations and the many crossings out and annotations, ‘how long have you been working on this?’ More and more recently Jack had noticed Rose starting unreasonably early and leaving late, packing calculations and tests into her lunch hour and any free time she could find. Her previous fervour had started to turn into a desperate determination as she began to face more and more obstacles in getting her project, nicknamed the Dimension Cannon, to work.

‘Since I got back from that alien sighting this afternoon,’ she said matter-of-factly, looking up at him questioningly.

‘Legit?’ he asked, leaning against the desk beside her.

‘Nah,’ she said dismissively, ‘some creature got loose from the exotic animals enclosure at the zoo.’

‘Well at least it’s one less thing we have to capture, coerce or kill,’ Jack said wearily. Rose said nothing. ‘Hey,’ Jack said, resting a hand on her shoulder, ‘I don’t like that bit either. But,’ he sighed, ‘we’ve got a planet to protect, and not all our aliens are lost or visiting.’

Rose shrugged. ‘Anyway,’ she said, bringing the conversation back to his original question. ‘Why do you ask?’

‘What? Oh,’ Jack ran his hands through his hair, ‘because I think you need a break.’

‘No,’ Rose said, tapping her pencil agitatedly against the pad, ‘I just need to run the figures again.’

‘Right,’ Jack drawled, ‘cause the numbers’ll change if you just run them enough.’

Rose leant back in her chair. ‘What else can I do?’ she asked, a hint of desperation creeping into her voice. ‘I have to make this work, Jack. I have to.’

‘Look,’ Jack said, smiling gently at her, ‘it’s seven o’clock. Why don’t you come for dinner with me? You’ll think better with some food in you.’ Rose considered this, seriously tempted. ‘Come on,’ Jack said, bumping her shoulder with his own, ‘you know I hate to eat alone.’

‘But I’m in my combats,’ Rose said, gesturing to the cheap comfy trousers she was wearing. Given what she frequently had to climb or wade through in the course of her job, there wasn’t any point in wearing fancy clothes.

‘Then we won’t eat at the Ritz,’ Jack grinned. ‘I swear,’ he said, holding up his index and middle fingers, ‘we’ll just go to the pizza place around the corner.’

‘Well,’ Rose said, biting her lip, ‘alright. But not for long,’ she added quickly.

‘Sure,’ Jack said easily.

 

It was a mild evening, one of a spate of warmer days. Jack had a team looking into it but, so far, it just seemed to be a regular meteorological anomaly. Jack and Rose walked along, chatting comfortably. After she’d been working at Torchwood for a couple of months he’d been comfortable enough to ask about his counterpart. Rose had smiled fondly and told him how they’d met when she was travelling with the Doctor, how they’d travelled together saving Earth and other worlds from disaster. And how he’d died.

Jack had been intrigued, to say the least. His own story was much simpler; the crack in the vortex that Rose, Mickey and the Doctor had fallen through, had disrupted Jack’s vortex manipulator, dropping him into the 21st Century, in the middle of the Cyberman invasion. He had survived by keeping his head down until they had defeated Lumic but had discovered that he could not repair his wrist strap and was stuck on Earth. His Time Agent status had been discovered when he tried to con Torchwood into purchasing the defective manipulator and he had been offered the choice of being an employee or an exhibit. Jack had chosen to be an employee; “as much as I love being ogled, what’s the point if you can’t ogle back?’ he had asked.

Rose laughed at a story Jack was telling, her arm automatically looped through his as they walked along. So much shorter than him, she missed the way he watched her; keeping an eye on her to protect her against a return to the hopeless waif she’d been when he first met her.

Pushing open the door of the packed restaurant, Jack let Rose enter first, closing the door behind them.

‘Hi,’ Rose said, smiling at the waitress.

‘Miss Rose!’ the waitress said smiling at them both. ‘And Captain Jack,’ she added flirtatiously.

‘Hi, there,’ Jack said, smiling winningly.

‘Table for two?’ the waitress asked. They were regulars here, and even more welcome after they had dealt with the alien tourists who’d taken a shine to Earth pizza. They’d almost passed for humans too, except that that wasn’t where you put pizza.

‘If you’ve got room,’ Jack said, leaning casually against the podium.

‘Oh, I’m sure we can find somewhere for you,’ the waitress said, winking at Jack.  
He winked back and the waitress sashayed off happily.

‘It’s not fair of you to use your charm to get us a table,’ Rose admonished, pointlessly since they had this conversation all the time and it never stopped him. To Jack, flirting was as natural, and as necessary, as breathing.

‘Jealous?’ he asked, raising an eyebrow at her.

‘Sure,’ Rose said, to his surprise. ‘She never smiles at me that way,’ she added.

Jack threw back his head and laughed, Rose smiled quietly. ‘She’s got a table,’ he said, after a moment, placing a hand at the small of her back to guide her to where the waitress was standing next to a newly cleared table, smiling at them.

 

‘Oh, I think I’m stuffed,’ Rose said, as they exited the restaurant two hours later. ‘Why did you let me have that last piece?’ she demanded of Jack, walking close to him in the cooler air.

‘Let you?’ Jack asked incredulously. ‘I thought you were gonna arm wrestle me for it.’

Rose laughed, shoving him with her shoulder. ‘Drama queen,’ she said.

‘Pizza Hog,’ he replied, shoving her back.

‘Shameless flirt!’ she cried, pushing him with her hip.

Jack laughed. ‘Yes?’ he asked. Rose giggled.

Suddenly they were standing in front of the Torchwood building, lightless windows stretching up into the night, the car park empty but for one silver Lexus. Rose sighed.

‘Well,’ Jack said carefully, ‘I guess this is where we part. Ready to work?’ he asked.

Rose shook her head, all her humour gone. ‘No,’ she said sadly. ‘I still don’t know what’s wrong with those figures. Even taking into account a basic margin for error...’ she tailed off, wrapping her arms around herself as she shivered.

‘Here,’ Jack said, stepping forward and wrapping his long coat around her. She leant against him, seeking his warmth, his solid presence. ‘Tell you what,’ Jack said, ‘why don’t you leave it for tonight. Get some sleep,’ he said, when she would’ve protested, ‘take a fresh look at it in the morning.’

‘I guess,’ Rose muttered into his jumper.

‘Good girl,’ Jack said, stepping back. ‘Hop in the car and I’ll take you home. Unless,’ he said, noting her reluctance, ‘you’re avoiding going home?’

‘I’m not avoiding it!’ Rose said. ‘As such,’ she added quietly. ‘It’s just...Mum and Pete, and the baby, they’re so happy. I don’t feel right there.’

‘Poor doll,’ Jack said sympathetically. Reaching out, he stroked her blonde hair gently as he thought. ‘Here’s a thought,’ he said at last, tugging gently on her ponytail, ‘why don’t you stay with me tonight?’ Rose looked at him, surprised. ‘Hey,’ he said, holding his hands up, ‘no funny business. Me on the couch, you in the bed, everybody in their jimjams.’

Rose chuckled. The thought of getting ready for bed without tiptoing around to avoid the rest of her family, of sleeping in a room not covered in ugly flowers, held a definite appeal. ‘I should let mum know I’m not coming home tonight,’ she said.

Jack smiled and tossed her his phone. ‘Come on,’ he said, ‘you can phone her in the car, it’s warmer.’

 

‘Come on in,’ Jack said, holding open the door to his flat. Despite their close friendship, Rose had no idea what it looked like and peered around curiously. He was definitely neat; everything was tidied away and it looked like all his collections might be alphabetised. With walls of bookshelves he was clearly a big reader, but she had known that already. The flat was just what she needed, orderly, plain, there was space to think, to breathe, to be. ‘D’you want something to drink?’ Jack asked. ‘No coffee at this time but cocoa? Hot Toddy? Warm milk?’

Rose smiled quietly. Now that she was here, she suddenly felt the toll of her long day. ‘No thanks Jack,’ she said softly.

‘Alright,’ he smiled. ‘Bedroom’s just through here.’ Steering her through the living room, he opened the door at the far end to reveal a bedroom that was perfectly Jack. Although there were warm, some might say feminine, colours on the walls, the angular style of the furniture and plain bedding was powerfully masculine. The dark tones among the warm shades reflected Jack’s hidden strength and the clean, uncluttered lines matched his clear thinking and dislike of beauraucracy. ‘Fraid the only bathroom’s en suite,’ he was saying. ‘I don’t have a lot of people back here.’

‘Really?’ Rose asked, turning to look at him in surprise.

He smiled wryly. ‘Job like Torchwood doesn’t leave much opportunity for a social life,’ he said. Crossing over to the bed, he grabbed something from underneath the pillow and bent to open a drawer in the chest next to the bed. ‘Here you go,’ he said, tossing a long, white t-shirt to her, ‘you can sleep in that. I’ll take the bathroom, if you don’t mind.’

‘No, that’s fine,’ Rose said quietly. As Jack strode off to the bathroom, Rose placed the t-shirt on the soft, thick duvet and unbuttoned her jeans.

 

‘Hey doll?’ Jack called a few minutes later. ‘You decent out there?’

‘Yeah,’ Rose said flatly.

Jack opened the bathroom door to see Rose, wearing the t-shirt, sitting on the edge of the bed with her back to him. Something in the way her shoulders were rolled forward and her face, hidden by her loose hair, was tilted down, screamed to him to comfort her.

‘Hey,’ he said quietly, crouching next to her.

Looking up, Rose almost smiled at the sight of him. He was wearing plaid pyjamas. It was an outfit that seemed oddly innocent for a man with his reputation. ‘I’m fine,’ she said.

‘And you look it too,’ Jack commented with gentle sarcasm. ‘This is me, remember. Tell me.’

Looking into those big, warm hazel eyes, so full of compassion and love, Rose felt all her fears bubble to the surface and tip over. ‘I don’t know what to do,’ she said desperately. ‘I can’t think of anything else to do. I don’t know what’s wrong with the machine and I don’t know how to fix it!’ With every sentance her voice grew more shrill and desperate.

Sitting next to her on the bed, Jack reached out and scooped her onto his lap. Holding her close, he stroked her hair and whispered. ‘It’s okay, Rose. We’ll figure something out. I promise.’

‘But what if we don’t?’ Rose asked, giving voice to the fear that had started to batter at her mind. ‘What if we never find a way back. I don’t think-’ she broke off, gulping in air as tears threatened to spill over. ‘I don’t think I can go back. I think I’m stuck here.’

Squeezing her tight, Jack pressed a kiss on top of her head. Rose wound her arms around his waist, taking comfort in his solid presence. Leaning down, Jack pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead. Rose brushed her cheek against the soft cotton of his pyjamas, tilting her head to look at him. A single tear escaped from each eye. Before they could reach her cheeks, Jack bent and kissed each one away. ‘No more tears,’ he whispered huskily.

‘No more tears,’ she agreed. Sliding her arms out from his waist, she reached up, winding them round his neck. Clutching her against him, Jack lowered his head and pressed a gentle kiss against her full lips. Before he could pull away, Rose was pressing her lips against his, tasting the salt water of her tears still moist on his lips. As she pulled him closer, Jack’s hands began to slide along the length of her spine, sliding along the curve of her backside. He pulled her closer to him. Withdrawing her arms from round his neck, Rose slid them down to his shoulders and pushed against him gently, trying to tip them both back onto the bed. While he still had the strength to stop this, Jack pulled back. ‘Rose?’ he asked softly.

Rose smiled at him. ‘Jack,’ she whispered, nodding. Smiling, Jack pressed another kiss to her lips as he drew them both back onto the wide bed.

 

The next morning, Rose woke to find her head resting against a broad chest, and the sun gently warming her naked skin.

‘Hey,’ Jack whispered, noticing her eyelids flickering.

‘What time is it?’ Rose asked anxiously. ‘Are we late for work?’

‘Don’t worry,’ Jack laughed, ‘we’ll get there when we get there. One of the perks of being the boss,’ he added, winking at her.

Rose smiled, and cuddled against him. ‘Jack,’ she began quietly, and then paused, not sure how to continue.

‘I know,’ Jack said calmly.

‘What do you know?’ she asked, tilting her head to see him.

‘Oh I know lots of things,’ he replied. ‘I know that you love the Doctor with every inch of you. I know that last night was last night and nothing more.’ Rose tried to speak, to explain, but Jack pressed a gentle finger against her lips as he continued speaking. ‘I know this won’t affect our friendship because we won’t let it. Will we?’ he looked down at her and she shook her head gently, loving him deeply for everything he was saying. ‘You know what else I know?’ he asked, lifting his finger away.

‘What?’ Rose asked quietly.

Jack rolled his head back to look at the ceiling, one long arm tucked behind his head. ‘I know that you’re not stuck here. You are going to make this work, Rose. You are going to see him again.’

Rose smiled. ‘I know,’ she said calmly.

‘You do?’ Jack asked, squinting down at her.

‘Yes,’ she said, grinning. ‘Because I know what’s wrong. Jack,’ she said, sitting up, ‘I know how to fix it!’ Dragging the thin sheet with her, Rose climbed out of the massive bed. ‘Come on,’ she said, excitedly, ‘we’ve got to get to work.’

‘Sure thing, doll,’ Jack said, rolling out of bed behind her.

‘Jack,’ she said, turning in the bathroom doorway.

‘Yeah?’ he asked.

She crossed the bedroom and leant on her tiptoes to press a chaste kiss against his lips. ‘Thank you,’ she said. ‘For everything.’

Jack winked at her. ‘Anytime,’ he said, grinning rougishly.

Rose laughed and went to wash up.


	3. Darkest Before the Dawn

Rose!

Rose!

I’m waiting for you.

Come and find me, Rose.

It was the morning light shining through her window that woke her, breaking through the recurring dream that had plagued her more and more these last few months. A tortured reminder of the dreams that had drawn her to Bad Wolf Bay, there were no instructions, no images in these dreams, just the darkness and the calling voice.

Rose groaned, and rolled over in her bed, wriggling down until her covers hid the evil sunshine calling her to another day. She’d stumbled in from Torchwood at some ridiculous hour the previous night, or possibly early this morning, and fallen straight into bed, completely missing the fact the Jackie had pulled open her curtains in an effort to brighten up her room.

She lay under the covers, eyes open; pupils dilated against the comforting blackness, and wished she could fall asleep again. On this day, of all days, she had wanted to sleep late. In fact, she had been hoping to sleep through the whole day, hence her late night at Torchwood. More and more recently, she’d been working as late as possible. The longer the project was unsuccessful, the louder the voices of panic and fear. The only way to quiet them was to work.

Suddenly the warm darkness became oppressive, and Rose rolled onto her back, pulling the covers far enough down for her to breathe fresh air. As she stared blindly at the ceiling, she felt a tear trickle down her cheek and refused to brush it away; why hide her feelings when there was no one to see.

She was still sleeping in the guest room. With the flowered bed spread and the neutral toned paint it couldn’t have looked less like her room, but Rose didn’t mind because she was rarely in it. Jackie and Pete had encouraged her to put her own stamp on it, paint it whatever colour she liked. Rose had consistently refused; it would feel too much like admitting that this was where she lived now, that she wasn’t ever going to leave, ever get back to him, so the room stayed plain.

Despite the lack of a calendar, Rose knew exactly what day it was. She had counted each day at first, convinced that it would be no more than a moment for Torchwood to find a way back to her universe. Then, when the days stretched out with no answer in sight, she had counted it in weeks, then months; one month, two months, three months, six months, and now here she was at the one year mark. A whole year since she had stood in Bad Wolf Bay and watched him burn up a sun to say goodbye.

There was a knock at the door. ‘Rose?’ Jackie called gently.

Rose sniffed, and wiped her tears away. ‘Yeah?’

‘Are you...’ Jackie paused, ‘What are you doing today, love?’

Rose considered her options. She could hide out in her room and cry, which would last about another hour before Jackie hauled her out to look after Tony or weed her dad’s vegetable garden, or put on a wash, in the faint hope that it would distract her from her memories. Or she could go to Torchwood, and try to get the Dimension Cannon to work.

‘I’m going into work,’ she called.

From the sigh on the other side of the door, this was not Jackie’s preferred choice for Rose’s day, but today Rose didn’t care. ‘Will you be around for dinner?’ she asked, tentatively.

‘I don’t know, mum.’ They both knew she meant no. Pouring herself into her work at Torchwood left little time for simple things like eating and sleeping. Between the three of them Jack, Mickey and her mum usually made sure she ate at least one meal a day, but it depended on how well she was doing with the Cannon, and on how stubborn she was feeling. Even Jackie couldn’t match her stubbornness if she was panicking over the project.

‘Could you make sure, pet?’ Jackie asked. ‘I’ve got something to show you.’

Rose sighed and flung back the covers. ‘Couldn’t you show it to me now?’ she asked,  
hauling the door open and looking questioningly at Jackie.

Jackie looked down at her daughter and tried to hide the sadness and fear that she felt when she saw her now. In the year they had been stuck in the alternate universe Rose had lost over a stone in weight from spotty eating and running herself ragged at work. Her hair was long and unkempt, worn in the same ponytail every day, there were dark circles under her eyes, and her clothes were clean only because Jackie picked them up from her floor and washed them. And then there were her eyes. Jackie had had to stop looking her straight in the eye because there was no humour there, no excitement, no hint of her Rose. There was only the determination, and the fear.

‘No,’ Jackie said quietly, ‘it won’t arrive until tonight. You’ve got to eat,’ she added desperately.

Rose sighed again, trying to decide if it was worth pushing it. ‘Okay,’ she conceded, deciding that she couldn’t face a fight with her mother today. ‘I’ll come home for dinner.’ She reached out and took the mug of coffee that Jackie had brought for her.

‘Seven thirty,’ Jackie called after her, as she retreated to her room to get dressed. Already sipping her coffee, Rose waved an affirmative at Jackie as she shut the door.

 

By the time she was almost finished her second coffee Rose was starting to wake up. On the plus side, this meant she could work on the Dimension Cannon again. Unfortunately it also meant she was more aware of the day.

‘Rose?’ Mickey called, as she balanced her coffee cup on top her bag while she searched for her security pass. Startled by the noise, Rose turned to see who was calling her and dislodged the precariously perched cardboard cup. Before she could do anything about it, the cup had tumbled to the floor and hot, black coffee was spilling all over the floor. Rose stared at the mess and felt tears of frustration well up behind her eyes. Liquid trickled down her cheeks as the tears spilled over and Rose dropped her bag to rub them away, sniffing deeply, and tipping her head back as if she had a nose bleed, while she tried to get a handle on her tears. Think of happy things, she thought desperately, like...puppies and kittens. Kittens, cats, cat nuns, New Earth, no! There were the tears again; everything happy led back to him. She felt a hand gently moving her out of the way, and Mickey was there, moving her to one side so a man in a janitor’s uniform could mop up the mess.

‘I’m really sorry,’ Rose told him earnestly, ‘I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I’m really sorry.’ At the back of her brain the panicked voices were pointing out that she couldn’t even get in the building, how was she going to make a Dimension Cannon work? How was she ever going to find him?

‘It’s okay, Miss Tyler,’ the man said gently. ‘Not a problem. I’ll have this fixed up in a jiffy.’ He smiled up at her but she could only nod in return. She couldn’t remember the last time she had smiled.

‘Come on, Rose,’ Mickey said, grabbing her bag and swiping them both through the security gate. Mindlessly, Rose followed him, her thoughts, as usual, somewhere else. ‘Didn’t expect to see you here today,’ Mickey commented.

‘Why not?’ she asked defensively. ‘It’s a weekday, so I’m at work. Nothing special about this day,’ she added. ‘Just another day.’

‘Right,’ Mickey murmured sceptically.

Retrieving her bag from him, Rose nodded decisively and turned to head through to the lab. Watching her sadly, Mickey wryly murmured, ‘Have a good day,’ and headed off to his own station.

 

Halfway through the day, there was a rap at her office door and Jack Harkness strode into the room. ‘How’s it going, doll?’ he drawled, in his distinctive American accent.

‘Not bad,’ Rose commented shortly, focused on the full diagnostic she was running on the large metal object in the middle of her desk. ‘Busy,’ she added, in the hope that he would go away. Of everyone she knew, Jack was the one person she really felt like she was failing. Somehow the promise she had made him six months ago, no more tears, felt ever more impossible, and she could no longer find the faith that had led her to agree that she would see the Doctor again.

Jack perched on the edge of her desk. ‘Come to take you to lunch,’ he continued, dangling his car keys in front of her. Jack was always the most likely to get her to eat. He was also the most determined to try. It broke his heart to see the emptiness in her big brown eyes, to see inspiration turn to fear.

‘Thanks,’ she responded, ‘I’ll grab something later.’

‘Come on,’ he wheedled, reaching out to poke her shoulder. ‘beautiful girl like you shouldn’t be eating alone. Let me treat you.’ He winked at her and Rose raised her eyebrows curiously.

‘Does Ianto know you’re up here chatting me up?’ she asked, leaning her weight on the hand resting on her desk.

‘Hey,’ Jack shrugged, ‘I’m dating, I’m not dead. Come on,’ he repeated more seriously, stroking her hand gently, ‘come for lunch.’

Rose shook her head. ‘Not today,’ she said firmly. ‘I’ll grab something later, I promise.’

‘Well,’ Jack sighed, ‘make sure you stop-’

‘Stop!’ Rose cried. ‘That’s it! Something’s stopping it!’ Turning back to the Cannon, Rose pulled off a metal panel and began rooting around inside. ‘Now, if I can find a way to...’

Her voice trailed off as she disappeared inside, Jack already forgotten.

 

At seven o’clock, Rose finally replaced the cover on the Cannon and stood back. She had almost managed to make it through the entire day without thinking of him, and all she’d had to do was not stop, not pause, not think about anything except the Cannon.

‘Heading out?’ Mickey asked, standing in the doorway of her office.

Turning round to face him, Rose saw spots before her eyes. Taking a deep breath, she put it down to light headedness from the bright lights of the office after working in the darkness of the Cannon.

‘Rose?’ Mickey asked, stepping into the room when she didn’t answer.

‘I’m fine,’ she said dismissively. ‘What did you want?’

Used to her rude behaviour when she was anxious, Mickey ignored her attitude and repeated his question. Rose bit her lip, torn between her urge to test the modifications to the Dimension Cannon, and her need to avoid a fight with Jackie. ‘I don’t know,’ she admitted, too tired to make decisions anymore. ‘I think I might have something with this, I need to test it...’ she swayed, and Mickey rushed forward to catch her.

‘You need to eat. Did you have lunch today?’ Mickey asked.

‘Um,’ Rose tried to focus, she really could have done with some more sleep today, ‘Jack said something about lunch,’ she managed. Mickey sat her in her office seat.

‘Jack said you blew him off,’ Mickey commented archly. ‘That’s a no then. Breakfast?’

Rose winced. ‘Does coffee count?’ she asked quietly, rubbing at eyes that burned with hours of intense focus. Trying to concentrate, she found that she couldn’t remember if she’d had dinner the night before. Now that she’d stopped working, she could feel a hunger headache building behind her eyes.

Mickey shook his head. ‘Home,’ he declared. ‘You need food and sleep.’

‘But the Cannon,’ Rose whispered, pleading with him to understand.

‘I’ll test it,’ Mickey said, decisively, it was the one thing he could do for her at the moment. He leant against the edge of her desk, his hands on either side of her computer chair, his attention focused on her.

‘Full tests,’ Rose pressed, wishing she could stay, wishing she could go.

‘Scouts honour,’ Mickey promised. Rose nodded, relieved that someone else was making the decision for her. ‘You can’t take the tube like this,’ he murmured, ‘I’ll get someone to drive you home.’

‘Hey, doll.’ Jack suddenly appeared at the door and Rose wondered if he and Mickey had a psychic connection. ‘Thought you might like a lift home?’ He moved further into the room, standing on the other side of her desk. Eyes closed against the pounding building behind her temples, Rose missed the significant look Mickey shot at Jack.

‘Why’s everyone so determined that I should go home?’ Rose asked crossly, her eyes snapping open so she could glare at Jack.

‘Your mom called,’ Jack drawled, deliberately casual. ‘Said she had something special waiting at home.’

‘Something special?’ Rose asked, trying to focus; her head was so fuzzy, maybe Mickey had been right. She should eat something.

‘Yep, she said it was something that would make you feel better.’ Jack waved his car keys enticingly.

‘Make me feel better?’ Rose repeated puzzled. Focused on trying to decipher her mother’s message, Rose didn’t notice Mickey and Jack carefully guiding her out of the building and into Jack’s car.

‘What is this surprise?’ Mickey asked, when she was strapped in and Jack had shut the car door.

‘Honestly?’ Jack asked. ‘I have no idea, but I hope it’s good. She’s close to the edge and I don’t wanna see her tip over.’

Mickey nodded solemnly, and waved to Rose, who stared ahead, brow furrowed, as Jack crossed to the other side of the car and slid into the driver’s seat.

 

‘Here we are,’ Jack announced, pulling up in front of the vast Tyler home and turning off the engine. When Rose made no move to unstrap, Jack made his way round to the passenger door and helped her out of the car. Taking her hand, he led her up the stairs, and swung open the door. ‘Jackie,’ he called into the hallway, ‘I’ve brought your eldest home.’

‘About time,’ Jackie responded, striding into the hall. Jack slid an arm around Rose’s waist and helped her into the hallway. Jackie looked her over and sighed. ‘I had wanted you to tidy up before you saw him, but he’s already here, so this’ll have to do.’

Rose’s eyes widened as soon as Jackie said the words “he’s here”; her befuddled brain clutching this phrase, all her last wisps of hope wrapped round the idea. Pushing past her mother, Rose sped along the corridor, following the muffled sound of male voices. Opening the living room door, Rose saw him, and her heart leapt. He was bent over, talking to Tony, his face obscured, but that lanky frame, that messy brown hair, who else could it be?

Pete noticed Rose standing in the doorway and coughed politely. He stood up and looked at Rose. ‘Hi,’ he said, quietly, stepping towards her. Rose took one look at his face and screamed.

Hearing the commotion, Jack and Jackie raced along the hallway in time to see Rose, pressed against the wall, tears spilling unheeded down her cheeks as she screamed at the visitor. ‘Get back! You’re not him! Get away!’

Striding over to her, Jack wrapped Rose in a hug; realising who was holding her, Rose relaxed, wrapping her arms around his waist and weeping into his sweater. Stroking her hair, Jack stared saw the young man standing in the living room, staring anxiously at Rose, and groaned. ‘Jackie,’ he said reproachfully, ‘what were you thinking?’

Jackie placed her hands on her hips and glared at Jack. ‘I was thinking that she needs to move on. She’s wearing herself out trying to do the impossible. I won’t have it. She needs someone here to make her want to stay.’

Andrew Clarkson, Pete’s accountant, looked sadly at Rose, as she clutched at Jack like a life raft, and nodded quietly to Pete. ‘I think it would be best if I left,’ he said, running a hand through his messy brown hair. ‘I’ll see you at work Mr Tyler.’

Pete nodded. ‘Thanks for coming Andy. Sorry about this.’

‘It’s alright,’ Andrew responded kindly, nodding to Jackie, ‘Mrs Tyler,’ and quietly leaving.

‘Rose,’ Jack whispered quietly, still stroking her hair gently. ‘He’s gone.’ He grimaced at his choice of words, and quickly added. ‘Andrew, I mean, he’s left.’

Rose hiccupped repeatedly, trying to calm herself down. ‘I...don’t...know...’ she managed.

‘Shh,’ Jack said, rubbing her back with his other hand. ‘Don’t worry about it. We’ll figure it out.’

‘Rose!’ Rose looked up, surprised by the triumphant shouting coming from the hall way. ‘Rose!’ Mickey called again. He burst into the living room, stopping short at the tableau before him.

‘What is it?’ Jack asked, widening his eyes pointedly over Rose’s head.

‘It works!’ Mickey cried.

Rose half fell out of Jack’s arms as she stumbled over to Mickey. ‘The Dimension Cannon,’ she whispered reverently, eyes wide with hope.

‘Yes! It worked! Only for a minute, but it worked.’ Mickey strode forward to wrap an arm round her when it looked like she would collapse again.

‘I can go home,’ she whispered. ‘I can go back.’

‘Yes,’ Mickey murmured, deciding that it was best not to go into the technical details and potential issues right now. ‘You can go back. But first you need some sleep, right?  
Will you sleep, Rose?’

‘Yes,’ Rose murmured. ‘Sleep. Then home.’ As her eyelids fluttered shut, there was a smile on her face.


End file.
